


i feel nothing when i'm alone

by catalysis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, BokuAka Week, BokuAka Week 2020, M/M, Necromancy, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25785499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catalysis/pseuds/catalysis
Summary: keiji knows that he can still stop. he can live with nothing more than the shadow of what he almost did on his soul. keiji knows all of this, but still he continues.------written for bokuaka week 2020 day 9- cooking/baking,except the cooking is only one scene, and isn't really cooking.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Kudos: 9
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	i feel nothing when i'm alone

**Author's Note:**

> tw for character death, mental health issues, minor description of a cadaver, minor blood.  
> also minor warning for an unreliable narrator, if that's something that bothers you.
> 
> please do not attempt anything in this fic.

keiji knows that he shouldn’t do it, knows that this isn’t something he can come back from, but something deep inside of him aches and he gives in.

most of the ingredients are fairly easy to come by: mint, salt, alcohol. some, however, require him to grow them painstakingly carefully in his own little garden.

the night after he plants all of his seeds, keiji dreams.

_koutarou’s back is to him, but keiji knows that his face is marred by a rare frown._

_“i have to go,” koutarou says, his words slow and far away._

_"you can't,” keiji pleads, “please, koutarou. something bad’s going to happen.”_

_"look, i’ll have kenma or kuroo call you every night, okay?”_

_keiji trembles, but he whispers an “okay” anyways._

a month later, keiji calls kuroo to ask for his help. they drive koutarou’s truck down to the little antique shop in town and buy the huge porcelain bathtub that’s lived in the back of the store for as long as keiji can remember. it’s terribly heavy, but kuroo helps him move it to his backyard and helps him scrub it clean.

by the time they’re done, the tub’s ornate pewter feet are nestled into the dirt and the sun gleams off its surface.

"are you okay?” kuroo asks, his hand resting on the doorknob.

keiji smiles, “of course i am,” he replies easily.

keiji knows that he’s going to dream again, but he welcomes it this time.

_"how are you?” comes kenma’s soft voice through his phone._

_“fine,” keiji replies, knowing any other answer wouldn’t receive a good response._

_“bokuto will be back soon, you know,” kenma says, “he’ll be leaving sapporo in two days._

_"i know.” but all keiji knows is the twisting in his gut._

keiji knows that he can still stop. he can tear up all of the plants, throw out all of the ingredients. he can call kuroo to help him lug the bathtub back onto the truck and dump it at the landfill. he can live with nothing more than the shadow of what he almost did on his soul. keiji knows all of this, but still he continues.

keiji carefully harvests his plants and lays them gently on the kitchen counter. he sets a well worn cast iron pot onto the stove and pours in the last bottles from their liquor cabinet: two bottles of spirytus that keiji couldn’t even drink when he was at his worst.

his gloved hands shake, just a little, as he slowly chops in bits of aconite, black hellebore, and belladonna. he opens the window and turns the stove to low and lets it steep for a while. he stands and he waits. when half of the alcohol has evaporated away, keiji drops in a few mint leaves and a sprinkle of salt for good measure. he pours it all into two jars and twists the lids on.

he barely manages to clean the kitchen up before he’s collapsing into bed.

_his phone rings early one morning and keiji blearily picks up. “hello?”_

_"keiji, are you okay?” it’s kuroo’s voice, but he sounds uncharacteristically panicked._

_“what is it?” keiji asks, dread curling in his stomach._

_“shit, he hasn’t seen the news,” keiji hears kuroo say, probably to kenma, quietly, but not quietly enough. “we’re coming over,” kuroo says._

_"wait-” the line goes dead._

_keiji slowly heads into the living room and turns on the television. it’s currently tuned into a mindless cooking show, but keiji switches it over to the news channel._

_PLANE EXPLOSION AT NEW CHITOSE AIRPORT KILLS 112_

_keiji drops the remote. he hears a horrifying noise and then realizes that it’s his own screaming._

it rains heavily one thursday night in march. keiji watches as the bathtub fills and smiles.

_the funeral is horrible. keiji can’t stand the stares. there’s curiosity from koutarou’s coworkers, most of whom keiji had never met. but there’s also pity from koutarou’s family and closer friends, who had known keiji as something fragile and something that koutarou had kept hidden away. and then there were looks of contempt, because of what keiji had requested. or, more like begged for, from koutarou’s parents._

_he had begged them not to have koutarou cremated, which had upset the traditional sensibilities of most of koutarou’s family. koutarou’s parents, however, had smiled sickeningly sweet and him and nodded along to his request. it almost feels as bad as if they had refused him._

keiji doesn’t really have a good reason for why he asked for koutarou to be buried instead of cremated. it really did nothing but give him false hope, and fill his mind with temptation. maybe, keiji supposes, it means that he’s always had the seed of something dark deep inside of him.

the bathtub is full and he knows the rainwater will only stay clean for so long.

on friday evening, he gets into koutarou’s truck again and drives up to the cemetery. it’s gated and the guard in the little building tells him visiting hours are ending soon, but keiji is wearing his best business suit and offers a _i’m here on business and this is the only chance i have to see my beloved sister_ , and the guard waves him on.

five hours later, keiji drives out of the cemetery and ignores the suspicious look the guard gives him.

keiji waits until midnight before dragging the large tarp covered package into his backyard. he goes back into the kitchen and grabs a knife and one of the jars he’d prepared what seems like a century ago. the anticipation has him almost giddy, and he almost runs back out to the backyard.

he slowly twists the lid off of one and pours it into the bathtub. he drags the knife across his arm and lets the blood drip into the tub.

he turns around and stares at the tarp. even the anticipation can’t settle the hesitation he feels. but he knows that he has to do it. he’s come too far to give up now.

keiji slowly unwraps the tarp and stares at koutarou’s sunken, decomposed face.

a memory creeps into keiji’s mind.

_“keiji, have you been taking your medication?” koutarou had asked one night when keiji was particularly spacey._

_keiji’s silence was answer enough._

_“keiji you know you have to.”_

_“i don’t like it. they muddle my visions,” keiji said petulantly._

_“keiji.”_

_“why don’t you believe me?” keiji asked. “why doesn’t anyone believe me?”_

_“you know it isn’t real,” koutarou said, soothingly. “the voices you hear aren’t spirits.” he reached out to keiji gently. “come on, i’ll make you a cup of tea.”_

_keiji shrugged out of his grasp and headed back into the bedroom._

keiji offers koutarou a soft smile. he’ll definitely believe him now.

he drags the tarp closer to the tub and then gently places koutarou into it. the water turns murky from the addition, but keiji doesn’t mind, gently adjusting koutarou until he looks comfortable. the cut on his hand stings, but keiji pays it no mind, sitting cross-legged next to the tub.

nothing happens for a while, but keiji waits patiently; he knows that everything will work out eventually. keiji looks up at the moon and waits.

finally, keiji hears a weak voice. “keiji?”

he looks over and sees koutarou, looking just like he did before he left all those months ago.

“koutarou,” keiji whispers, tears forming in his eyes, but he blinks them away lest they blur his vision.

koutarou rises from the bathtub and keiji flushes at his nudity. it’s been such a long time.

koutarou’s a little shaky when he tries to walk, but keiji’s happy to help him along.

keiji helps koutarou take a quick shower to get the remaining grave dirt and grime off.

all of it really doesn’t feel real to keiji until they’re both standing in the kitchen dressed in soft t-shirts and sweatpants.

“i missed you so much,” keiji says.

koutarou smiles at him. “we should drink,” he says, pulling out a bottle of wine.

keiji nods even though all he wants to do is reach out and touch, just to make sure koutarou’s still there.

he’s unusually tipsy after just one glass, but he attributes that to the elation he feels at having koutarou back.

that night, keiji falls asleep in koutarou’s arms and he doesn’t dream at all.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :)  
> okay i started this with a happy ending in mind, but then this sorta just happened.  
> actually, you know what, the ending is happy, just take everything that happens at face value.  
> come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/nyamayachi)


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